


Halfway

by FreshBrains



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, Pining, Post-Season/Series 05, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 12:16:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4835018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles wants Derek to speak and fill the silence, but Derek has never given him the easy way out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Halfway

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from a lovely anon: _"This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.”_

Stiles drives past Scott’s house for the third time that night before heading back into town. No matter how much he loves his best friend, will _always_ love him, he knows it isn’t the right time to try to make amends.

Unfortunately, he’s also really, _really_ lonely.

Malia is out of town with Braeden trying to learn more about her mom. Lydia is still recovering from Eichen House on a mother-daughter spa trip. And he’s not about to lower himself to seeing what Liam and Mason are doing. He’s going out of his head, getting that _bad_ feeling again, the one that makes his skin feel too small for his body.

So he does the worst thing he could possibly do. He calls Derek.

Well, he calls him twice, actually. The first time has the phone ringing for two minutes straight with no answer, Stiles too stubborn to hang up. He ends the call and finally exhales. Cars pass by the gas station parking lot where he’s stopped in his dad’s old pickup he hardly ever drove. He misses his Jeep.

He presses Call again. He doesn’t have a picture for Derek in his contacts—it’s just a silhouette, blank and forgettable.

“ _Stiles_?”

Stiles squeezes his eyes shut, willing away the tight panic thrumming from heart to head. “Yeah, it’s me. Hey.”

There’s a beat of silence. The other line doesn’t betray Derek’s whereabouts; all Stiles can hear is static. “ _I know it’s you. You called me_.”

Stiles opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a barked laugh. “Yeah, I did.” He stops, breath hitching in his throat. He wants Derek to speak and fill the silence, but Derek has never given him the easy way out. “I’m sick of Beacon Hills.”

“ _You_ love _Beacon Hills_ ,” Derek says. His voice is low and even, but Stiles picks up on the way his breath quickens before he chooses his words. “ _It’s your home_.”

“Yours, too,” Stiles says quietly, leaning forward to rest his forehead on the steering wheel. Derek doesn’t respond. “Where are you?”

“ _Texas_ ,” Derek says. “ _East. It’s too hot_.”

Stiles thinks of Derek Hale in a Stetson and tight jeans, boots with spurs, and smiles despite himself. “Do you want to meet somewhere?”

Another beat of silence. “ _What do you mean_?”

“I’m in Northern California, you’re in Eastern Texas, let’s meet somewhere. Halfway. Anywhere.” He knows there’s a vicious shake in his voice, that tremor that always made Derek’s face melt, made his eyes soft. Stiles never means to do it, but it happens anyways. “I just…”

“ _Where_?”

Just that one word, flat, free of judgment, makes Stiles’ chest ache. “Hold on a second,” he says, pulling up Google Maps on his phone. “Phoenix.”

Derek laughs, short and harsh. “ _You want to meet in Phoenix. You have school tomorrow, Stiles. And I’m…I’m working. Busy_.”

“I know,” Stiles whispers. “I know.”

Derek sighs, deep and long. “ _This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had_.” Static burns over the line. “ _Of course I’m in_.”

Stiles’ eyes snap open. “Wait, what? Really?”

“ _I can’t smell you_ ,” Derek says, like it’s making him ache, “ _but I can tell…I can tell you’re in pain. I can’t stand it, Stiles, I can’t_ …”

“I’ll leave tomorrow morning,” Stiles says, smiling, even as tears prick at his eyes. “I’ll meet you halfway.”

Derek hangs up without a response—final, before he can change his mind.

And for the first time in a long time, Stiles feels like he can face the next day.


End file.
